


Courage and Strength

by TheNarator



Series: What Did You Think Was Going To Happen? [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scarring, So much angst, all aboard the trauma train, one scene's kinda bluepulse-y if you squint, the tv tropes would be Agony of the Feet, this is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNarator/pseuds/TheNarator
Summary: With the help of the team and his family Cisco has been getting better with his recovery. The past is not necessarily in the past though, and when old demons come back to haunt him Cisco will have to face his biggest challenge yet. Can the team live up to their promises to support him? Or is he doomed to relive what he cannot forget?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all so much for showing up for yet another sequel, and as always a special thanks to hedgi without whom this story would not exist.

It was at times like these that Dick remembered the old adage “if your attack is going well, you have walked into an ambush.”

The mission had seemed simple enough at the time: go to the hidden enemy compound in the Appalachian Mountains, recon the place and report back. He himself had only gone because he thought this might be a good opportunity to train some of the twitchier members of the team in stealth. He was only meant to be supervising.

Virgil had noticed the waiting enemies first, and had sent up a shout to warn the others. Dick had been annoyed at first -- shouting was the opposite of stealth -- but once he’d processed what Virgil was saying he’d leaped to get in front of Bart, the youngest member of the squad. Not that it did much good, they were already flanked and their retreat was cut off. Cisco might have been able to repelled them enough for an escape with a full-circle blast, but he wouldn’t even make the attempt with Bart there to get caught in the crossfire. It looked like they’d have to fight their way out.

The first to realize this was Cassie, and she’d thrown herself into what she did best, picking up the nearest enemy and hurling him at once of his fellows. La’gaan had swelled up and started tossing masked thugs aside, but some kind of taser gun had sent him back down to normal size. Virgil took care of that one, meeting the gun’s fire easily with an electrical attack of his own and reducing it to smithereens. Bart had run up the rock wall to their left to take out the snipers keeping the squad on their toes.

Cisco, however, seemed strangely reserved. He was picking off enemies one by one, blasting them back against their rocky surroundings, but he wasn’t hitting them hard enough to knock them out, and they kept coming back for more. As Dick watched he began to get overwhelmed, enemy soldiers identifying him as an easy target and swarming to him.

“Vibe!” he called, narrowly dodging a swing from one opponent and using his momentum to send him careening into a second. “This is not the time to be holding back!”

“I have to!” said Cisco earnestly, doing his best to keep backing away from the hoard of enemies he had attracted.

He looked over his shoulder at Dick, then his eyes widened in horror. Breaking away from his own fight he turned and fired a blast that went just over Dick’s shoulder, knocking out an enemy that Dick had missed while he was focusing on monitoring the others. The man hit the rock wall hard and slid down it, unconscious.

It was then that Dick realized why Cisco was holding back.

A great rumbling noise filled the air, coming from somewhere above them. All fighting stopped as they all looked up to see pebbles skittering over the edge of the cliff where Bart and the few remaining snipers were standing. The enemy soldiers broke off their pursuit of the heroes and began scrambling out of the way, and Bart looked around only to let out a little squeak and race down to come to a stop next to Dick.

“Boulders!” he said, panicked. “Big ones!”

Dick cursed himself for goading Cisco into using his powers. His last blast had caused enough seismic activity to create a rockslide. With sheer cliff to the left and a hundred foot drop to the right, there was nowhere for the team to run. Dick began to think as quickly as he could. Bart could outrun the boulders, and two members of the squad could fly. If he could just-

His thought process was abruptly interrupted by a swirling blue portal opening beneath his feet.

Dick dropped to the floor of the Watchtower, barely managing to land on his feet. La’gaan and Cassie were not so graceful, winding up in jumbled heaps, and Bart landed on his tailbone with a pained yelp. Virgil, who had been flying, soared out of his portal and straight into the ground, like only moments ago he had been going forward at top speed. Cisco managed a wobbly upright landing, but fell immediately to his knees.

With that, the six portal overhead closed decisively behind them.

Dick immediately threw himself toward Cisco, whose eyes were already beginning to flutter closed. He had opened not one but _six_ different portals, an exhausting exercise in itself, but he’d also opened them within the same universe. The portals were meant for interdimensional travel, and opening them merely to travel across distances was dangerously draining. Cisco was out cold by the time Dick reached him, but Dick still managed to catch him before he fell to the floor.

“He doesn’t look so good,” Cassie noted as she picked herself up off the ground.

“Is he alright?” La’gaan asked, getting to his feet and then going to help Virgil.

Dick looked down at Cisco’s slack face. His complexion was ashen, his eye seeming sunken as though from exhaustion. Blood was beginning to trickle ominously from his nose.

“What happened?” Bruce asked, walking briskly to meet them.

“Ambush,” Dick explained simply. “Vibe opened multiple portals to get us back here.”

Bruce didn’t need to be told what that meant. He beckoned to Cassie, who hurried over and picked up Cisco easily despite him being almost as tall as she was. Then Bruce led the way to medbay, where Cisco was hooked up to several machines to monitor his vitals and given IV fluids. Dick sat by his bed, watching impassively, waiting for Cisco to wake up.

“Can you handle this?” Bruce asked, once Cisco was pronounced stable.

“I’ll have to,” Dick replied, and Bruce nodded once before sweeping from the room.

Dick was willing to admit to himself he’d been putting this off, but this was the last straw. When Cisco woke up, they were going to have a talk.

***

Cisco knew he was in trouble when he woke up in medbay with Nightwing sitting by his bed.

It wasn’t that waking up in medbay was so unusual, as they all got injured on missions with relative frequency. It wasn’t that Nightwing sitting around waiting for him to wake up was so unusual, as he generally took it upon himself to worry for the members of the team who had no League mentor. What made it clear that Cisco was in trouble was the defeated look in Nightwing’s eye as he looked down at Cisco. It was a look of disappointment, like Cisco had let him down somehow. It was that look that said they were about to have a serious conversation.

Nightwing looked up when Cisco first stirred, and Cisco did his best to look contrite as he pushed himself up in bed. The report being projected out of the arm of Nightwing’s suit faded down as the older superhero turned all his attention on Cisco. There was a moment of quiet in which Cisco peered up at Nightwing with head bent, but Nightwing continued to look at him with that same disappointed expression.

“You feeling alright?” Nightwing began, shifting in his chair to face Cisco more fully.

Cisco nodded. His head hurt, but he knew that was his own fault.

“You had another mini-stroke,” Nightwing informed him. “You keep this up and you’re actually going to stroke out.”

“I know,” Cisco nodded again. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Nightwing instructed, “be careful. What happened out there?”

“Falling rocks happened,” Cisco said. “I had to get everyone out-”

“Getting everyone out is not just on you,” Nightwing reminded him. “Two members of your squad could fly. Impulse could have gotten out of the way. You could have opened _one_ portal for me and La’gaan, to the Tower of Fate so you didn’t overtax yourself.”

Cisco looked down, unable to look Nightwing in the eye anymore.

“Instead you opened _six_ portals, _within_ the same dimension,” Nightwing continued. “You could have done yourself serious damage.”

“I’m sorry,” Cisco said again. “I just, I made a snap decision, and-”

“And normally I’d write it off as instinct kicking in at a bad moment,” Nightwing cut him off, “but I have to factor in the other stuff.”

Cisco frowned. “What other stuff?”

“Cindy says you’ve been avoiding her,” Nightwing told him. “She says you’re not sleeping, that you’re in your workshop at all hours of the night. You won’t talk to her anymore and she’s worried.”

“I talk to Cindy,” Cisco said defensively. “There’s just nothing new to talk about. Things have been quiet-”

“And then there’s Dante,” Nightwing said.

Cisco swallowed. He’d been hoping that Dante’s dislike of Nightwing and the team would mean he could get away with that one. He should have known Nightwing would find out somehow. There were days when Cisco didn’t entirely believe Batman’s claims that he and his students didn’t have superpowers.

“He called me,” Nightwing said, “and I think you know what it meant for him to do that. How worried he had to be for him to rely on me to find out what’s going on with his own brother.”

“It was one dinner,” Cisco said sulkily.

“That you missed,” Nightwing retorted, “without calling, without any explanation, and then ignored Dante’s calls the next day. He thought something had _happened_ to you.”

“Well nothing _happened_ to me,” Cisco insisted, “and I told him that on Tuesday.”

“Why didn’t you answer his calls on Monday?” Nightwing wanted to know.

“I was busy?” Cisco tried.

Nightwing did not look at all impressed.

“Look,” Cisco said, “I admit I’ve been a little buried in side projects recently, so maybe my head hasn’t been in the game.”

“It’s more than that,” Nightwing insisted. “Something’s up with you, and I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Cisco said reflexively.

“I don’t buy that,” Nightwing said. “You were doing so good there for a while. You hadn’t missed a family dinner since you agreed to go every Sunday. You seemed like you were opening up more, trusting people more. What happened?”

Cisco looked down, knowing it was no good. He was going to have to say it.

“My eighteenth birthday is tomorrow,” he said quietly.

This statement was met with silence. Cisco glanced up, wondering if Nightwing didn’t know what that meant, to be met with a concerned frown. Cisco wanted to cry. He wasn’t just going to have to say it, he was going to have to spell it out.

Cisco swallowed. “It’s the day-”

“I know what day it is,” Nightwing said. “It’s the day Thawne said you’d be ready to murder the Flash.”

Cisco flinched, then looked down in shame. After all this time, after everything, hearing it like that still made his heart clench with fear.

Nightwing laid a hand on one of Cisco’s. “You know you have nothing to worry about, right?”

“I don’t know what to think,” Cisco confessed. “I mean, I know being afraid of him gets me nowhere, I _know_ that. But at the same time, every other thing he’d ever told me would happen has happened. He’s never _not_ gotten his way, as far as I know.”

“You think he wanted to be thrown in prison?” Nightwing wondered.

“He plays the long game,” Cisco said, feeling morbid.

“Whatever his game is,” Nightwing said, “I need you to know that you don’t have to face it alone. Whatever it is you’re afraid is going to happen? It won’t. We won’t let it. _I_ won’t let it.”

“Do you think you could take me in a fight?” Cisco asked.

Nightwing raised an eyebrow. “Where’d that come from?”

“I’ve just been thinking about Conner,” Cisco said, “about how Luthor put those trigger words in his head. What if that’s it? What if my birthday is some kind of trigger?”

“He’s not a psychic,” Nightwing pointed out.

“But he knows how to mess with my head.” Cisco looked down. “He made me, and I don’t know the half of what he put inside me.”

“He gave you your powers,” Nightwing said, leaning down to catch Cisco’s gaze, “but he didn’t make you. _You_ made you. He’s responsible for those experiences but you chose what you took away from them.”

“Fear?” Cisco guessed.

“Caution,” Nightwing corrected. “Protectiveness. Compassion. The desire to use what he gave you to do good.”

Cisco felt the warm glow of pride swelling in his chest at the compliments. The feeling wasn’t foreign, he had learned early on in his life that earning praise felt better than anything, but getting praise from Nightwing was different than getting praise from Thawne. With Nightwing there was no accompanying feeling of relief, just a shining sense of accomplishment. With Thawne there had always been the comforting knowledge that if he was pleased then he wasn’t angry. Cisco tried to focus on the good feeling and not think of Thawne right now.

Nightwing squeezed his hand. “I know you, and whatever bad thing you’re afraid he put into you, it’s not there.”

“I just wish there was a way to be sure,” Cisco said.

“Luckily there is,” Nightwing grinned. “When Conner was worried about trigger words he had M’gann go through his mind looking for them. She was able to find them all and get rid of them.”

“Really?” Cisco asked, excitement welling in his chest.

“Really,” Nightwing said, then stood up. “Get some more rest, I’ll have M’gann swing by and look you over later.”

As Nightwing left Cisco settled back against the pillows, feeling better than he had in weeks. His friends would help him deal with this. There was a way to check if his birthday was a trigger for something, and put a stop to it. Thawne was still in prison, which was not part of his plan, and was where he was going to stay.

It was going to be alright.

***

When Dick asked M’gann if she could check Cisco’s mind to see if his birthday was some kind of trigger, M’gann had laughed.

“It would take someone with psychic powers to insert a compulsion tied to a _date_ Dick,” she informed him. “It’s not something a speedster could do.”

“Humor him,” Dick said seriously, making M’gann stop laughing. “He’s really worried about this, and he’s falling back into bad habits.”

“How bad?” M’gann asked.

“Reckless behavior on a mission bad,” Dick replied. “He’s self-destructing because he thinks he’s going to hurt someone.”

“He’d never hurt any of us,” M’gann argued. “He’s Cisco!”

“You know that and I know that,” Dick said, “but he’s not so sure. Do this for him?”

M’gann nodded. She was very fond of Cisco. He’d been a good friend to Gar and a lot of the younger members of the team, always looking out for them without making them feel smothered. If this was what he needed, then M’gann would do it.

“Knock knock,” she called, peeking behind the curtain around Cisco’s bed.

Cisco sat up, looking nervous. “Hey,” he said. “Did Nightwing talk to you?”

“Yeah,” M’gann telekinetically pulled over the chair that had been placed against the wall and sat down next to the bed. “He told me what’s been bugging you lately.”

“It probably seems silly to you,” Cisco said.

“If it’s important to you, it’s not silly,” M’gann told him firmly, “and it’s an easy fix. Just relax and I’ll take a look.”

Cisco nodded, then leaned back against his pillow.

M’gann had opened a connection into Cisco’s mind on several previous occasions, so it was a familiar pathway that she traveled now. His surface thoughts were jittery and nervous, but she pushed past those into uncharted territory. There was his immediate past: the last few weeks, his time on the team, and then further to when he’d been living on the street. ARGUS had been a cold and strictly regimented period in his life, broken by the bright spot of his relationship with Cindy. M’gann pressed on gently, feeling Cisco’s reluctance to show her this, feeling his unwillingness to relive it.

“ _It’s ok,_ ” she spoke directly into his mind. “ _Just let me in, and then we can be done._ ”

Back in the real world she felt Cisco take a shaky breath, and the barrier fell away.

M’gann sifted quickly through Cisco’s memories of those six years, trying to go fast without compromising thoroughness. Mostly things moved too quickly for her to pay attention to individual events that didn’t involved thoughts or memories about his birthday, but there were things that happened so frequently they blended together into a monolithic experience it was impossible to ignore. The feeling of fear. The sensation of cold. The sight of a door closing, leaving a room in total darkness.

“ _No!”_ Cisco’s childhood self called. “ _Please, don’t! I’ll be good! Don’t leave me!_ ”

M’gann flinched, and she heard Cisco’s real self make a breathy, distressed noise.

“ _Just another minute,_ ” she promised.

She scanned the memories, looking for anything connected to his birthday, for any visit to a psychic that might have been paid to implant a compulsion, for anything that looked like the crude kind of hypnotism humans without psychic powers sometimes used. There were a few times Cisco had been shown off to his tormentor’s allies, poked and prodded by curious supervillains, and with a jolt M’gann recognized a few members of the Light. Still, there was no memory of Psimon, or any other psychic.

“There,” M’gann said aloud. “All done. No sign of any psychic triggers, tied to your birthday or otherwise.”

Cisco took a deep, shuddering breath, then looked up at her. “You mean, there’s nothing? I’m safe?”

M’gann gave him her best reassuring smile. “You’re safe,” she said. “Nothing bad is going to happen tomorrow. It’ll just be another ordinary day.”

***

As M’gann had promised, Cisco’s eighteenth birthday dawned gray and ordinary. He didn’t wake up covered in blood or in a murderous rage or somehow unable to control himself. In fact he didn’t feel any different than he had the day before. He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling, waiting for something subtler to happen. Nothing happened, subtle or otherwise, and eventually he got tired of waiting and got up. It was just like any normal day, that just so happened to be his birthday.

He was still not particularly excited about it. His birthday wasn’t a trigger, he knew that now, but some part of him was still afraid that Thawne would get his way somehow. Nothing had ever stopped Thawne from getting exactly what he wanted, out of Cisco or anyone else.

Word seemed to have gotten around that it was his birthday. Bart had come in early to make chocolate chip pancakes for everyone, and Cisco got an extra big stack. Cindy kissed him and told him she forgave him for avoiding her before he’d even apologized. Even Roy, who was not prone to hanging around the Hall when they didn’t have a mission, showed up out of nowhere to tussle Cisco’s hair. Despite this, none of them actually wished him a happy birthday out loud, which Cisco was grateful for.

“You told everyone, didn’t you?” Cisco accused when Nightwing cornered him after breakfast.

“What, that it was your birthday?” Nightwing grinned. “Did you expect that to stay a secret?”

“Not really,” Cisco sighed. “Between you, M’gann and two nosy speedsters poking around I figured someone would find out even if I hadn’t told you.”

“Didn’t Cindy know?” Nightwing asked.

“No,” Cisco said. At Nightwing’s raised eyebrow he went on. “It’s been a while since I’ve been somewhere people actually . . . cared. My birthday wasn’t a big deal at ARGUS, you know?”

“Point taken,” Nightwing said. “So are you going to go see your family? I’m sure they’d like to hear from you, today of all days.”

“I’ll call Dante later,” Cisco assured him, “but I’m not going home. I don’t want to be there in case something _does_ happen.”

“What do you think is going to happen?” Nightwing asked.

“Nothing, hopefully,” Cisco said, “but I’d just rather wait until tomorrow.”

“You’ll still be eighteen tomorrow,” Nightwing pointed out.

“I just want this day to be over,” Cisco told him. “I’ll spend all weekend with them, just not today.”

Nightwing still looked troubled, but he did not argue the point any further

His birthday or not, life went on for the team. There was a mission to do, nothing particularly serious, but it took most of the day and several portal jumps to complete. Jaime and Bart came too, with Conner taking the leadership role. Cisco was used to leading when he was with Jaime and Bart, but he was more than happy to hand the responsibility over, today of all days. No one said anything about it being his birthday, but several times he caught Bart grinning excitedly at him, and once he could have sworn he saw Jaime elbow Bart in the ribs.

They were following a lead Conner had discovered concerning some Apokoliptian tech, which meant they got to bring Sphere out with them. Cisco liked working with Sphere. Sentient technology was a somewhat intimidating thing to contemplate, in Cisco’s opinion, but Sphere was a reassuring, if somewhat hard to understand example. She seemed to know it was his birthday too, as she kept following him around making affectionate _bleep_ noises at him and occasionally trying to run him over in her enthusiasm.

In the end they did not find any Apokoliptian tech. This might have made the day seem like a waste, but the routine of it served to calm Cisco’s nerves, and by the time Conner consented to call it quits the sun was pleasingly low in the sky. This horrible day was almost over. In fact, as they trudged back to the residential wing of the Hall of Justice Cisco was considering just going to bed and sleeping away the remaining hours when Conner called him into the living room.

“Look,” Conner said as they walked down the hall, “I know today isn’t something you’ve been looking forward to, but I just want you to know that we’re all happy you’re here.”

“I’m happy I’m here too,” Cisco admitted. “It’s a lot better than . . . well, almost anywhere else I could be.”

“I’m sure there’s one place that would be better,” Conner said knowingly.

Cisco opened his mouth to promise again that he would go see his family tomorrow when they rounded the corner into the living room. The lights came on all at once, and suddenly there was an explosion of noise and confetti as every single member of the team, plus Billy, jumped out from behind the furniture.

“Surprise!” they chorused, and Cisco lurched backwards. He ran smack into Conner though, who held him upright as Cindy stood up from where she’d been kneeling next to the coffee table and went to put her arms around him.

“A surprise party?” Cisco asked, laughing a little now that the initial shock was over. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Cindy confirmed. “I am going to make _sure_ you enjoy this birthday if it’s the last thing I do.”

Instead of answering Cisco kissed her, and the kiss kept going until Cisco felt someone take hold of his shoulder and jostle him a little. He turned, to see M’gann hovering a few inches off the floor in excitement.

“I’m guessing you helped put this together?” Cisco asked.

“It was mostly Cindy,” M’gann admitted, making Cindy look rather smug. “But I did the cake! Tell me what you think of it?”

The cake was chocolate with buttercream frosting, an enormous circle of swirling blue like one of his portals, dusted in sugar to make it shimmer in the light. It was delicious, and it turned out to have enough food coloring to turn everyone’s mouths blue, which Cindy made fun of M’gann for. If no one had wished him a happy birthday that morning _everyone_ had to now, and it was a good hour before Cisco had finished being hugged and congratulated by everyone. There were presents, mostly clothes because Cisco had very few of his own, but his new obsession with graphic t-shirts had definitely been noticed by everyone. Then they all settled in to watch _Back to the Future,_ all three back to back, with Cindy in both her and Cisco’s favorite position draped over Cisco’s front.

Partway through the third movie Cindy lifted her head and kissed Cisco gently.

“What was that for?” he whispered.

Cindy grinned down at him, then shifted in order to point at the clock above the television.

Five minutes past midnight.

His birthday was over.

***

“We have to tell him,” Barry said, watching Cisco’s birthday party wind down on the security feed.

Next to him, Bruce was silent.

“He has a right to know,” Barry continued earnestly. “We can’t keep it from him.”

Bruce continued to stare at the screen without giving any indication that he’d even heard Barry.

Barry sighed. “We have to-”

“We don’t have to interrupt the party,” said Bruce, without looking at him.

“But-” Barry began.

“Let the kid have this moment,” Bruce said. “We can tell him in the morning.”

“Are you sure that’s smart?” Barry asked dubiously.

Bruce went back to being silent for a moment. Then, just when Barry was about to ask again, he spoke.

“Doing it any other way is cruel,” he said, with the same conviction he said everything. “He deserves one good birthday.”

“Even knowing he’ll wake up to _this_?” Barry wondered.

“Like you said,” Bruce replied gravely. “We have to tell him.”

Barry sighed, but he knew it was true. It would be cruel to interrupt the party now, when everyone was relaxed and having a good time. Still, in the morning they would have to do it. Tomorrow they would have to tell everyone, including Cisco, about the Reverse Flash’s escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't give me that look you knew this was coming. i foreshadowed it to the moon and back.
> 
> comments keep the pain train moving towards its final stop at recovery station!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY MORE PAIN WHO'S WITH ME?! special snaps to hedgi for writing half the kitchen scene and helping me agonize over la'gaan's dialogue.

Barry watched the team file onto the main floor of the Watchtower with a sinking feeling in his gut. Most of them were still riding high from the party last night, smiling and laughing, pushing each other, generally in high spirits. Wally and Bart were talking animatedly about the movies they’d watched, which Bart had never seen before and which were apparently rife with inaccuracies. Even Cisco looked cautiously happy, holding hands with Cindy and smiling gently, not in the least suspecting that he was about to get bad news. He looked so young despite being technically an adult, and Barry was acutely aware of just why Thawne had thought Cisco would make a good weapon. Barry couldn’t have brought himself to hurt Cisco, even not knowing him. No one could hurt a face like that.

The team all clustered together in a crowd, facing Bruce and Barry. They had all been called here together, but none of them suspected anything was off. They thought that they had a mission. They thought everything was going to go back to normal after the drama of yesterday and the preceding week. They had no reason to think that anything was wrong.

Bruce cleared his throat, and the gathered teenagers fell silent.

“You’re probably wondering why I called you all here like this,” Bruce began.

“New mission?” La’gaan guessed.

“No,” said Bruce. “I’m afraid I have some troubling news.”

A general murmur went through the crowd. The high spirits deflated to be replaced by confused and worried expressions. Most of them were wondering what this bad news could be, but Barry saw Dick and Wally’s eyes flick to Cisco. He out of all of them was quiet, his face set in a neutral expression, but his complexion had gone suddenly ashen.

“Last night,” Bruce went on, “just before midnight, Eobard Thawne escaped from Iron Heights.”

Suddenly all eyes were on Cisco, a sea of horrified expressions turned toward him. Cisco looked determinedly ahead, not looking at anyone, even when Cindy touched his shoulder. His eyes had a distant quality to them, like his mind was a thousand miles away. His face was even paler than before.

Barry stepped forward. “This morning I found this message on my answering machine,” he said. “My private one, at home. We couldn’t determine where it was coming from.”

He swallowed, then waved a hand to play the recording.

“ _Hello Flash,”_ said a calm and pleasant voice.

Cisco took a sharp breath inward, and Cindy tightened her grip on his shoulder. Barry wanted to stop the recording there. He wanted to destroy it so Cisco would never hear it. He wanted to destroy Thawne, so that no one would ever have to hear that voice again. He knew, though, that Cisco needed to know what he was up against.

“ _Have you seen my little Cisco?”_ asked the voice. _“I think you have. Don’t bother trying to deny it, I know you know where he is.”_

Cisco closed his eyes tightly. Several members of the team shifted toward him, and others merely looked at the floor, or at each other. La’gaan tried to touch Cisco’s other shoulder, but Cisco flinched and La’gaan withdrew his hand.

“ _You took something that belongs to me and I want it back,”_ the voice was harsher now, less calm. “ _Return to me what is mine and I’ll have no reason to touch what is yours. If not, well, I think by now you have more to lose than ever.”_

Barry’s mind turned immediately to the twins, so small and helpless and vulnerable. He thought of Wally and Bart, fast but not fast enough to compete with the Reverse Flash. He thought of Iris, and what Thawne might do to her if he caught her alone.

The recording ended, and Bruce turned back to the team. “We are doing _everything_ we can to locate him,” he said firmly, “but so far the search has turned up nothing.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Barry interjected. “It’s just a matter of time before he makes a move and we _will_ be there.”

“In the meantime, we thought you should all know,” Bruce concluded. “We’re taking this threat very seriously, so we all need to be on alert.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. Dick, however, was silent, his eyes fixed on Cisco. Cisco had opened his eyes and was now staring straight ahead with that vacant expression again. Then suddenly he pulled out of Cindy’s grip and, skirting the edge of the crowd, headed straight for the zeta tube.

Barry was gratified to see Dick, Wally, Bart, Jaime and Cindy all go streaming after him.

***

Cisco stepped out of the zeta tube into the Hall of Justice in a daze. The only thought in his head was that he had to get _out_ , to get away from the team and their looks of pity and horror. Once he was in the library though his head began to clear. He needed to think of what to do next. He needed a plan. There was really only one option, so Cisco set off purposefully towards the residential wing.

Once he had reached his own room Cisco pulled a black backpack from his closet. He tossed it on the bed and began sorting through his closet for his favorite of the new clothes. It was a pity he had to leave most of the graphic t-shirts behind, but he needed to travel light.

He turned around with a shirt that read “stand back, I’m doing _science_ ” to find the backpack dangling from Bart’s hand.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

“Give that back,” Cisco snatched at it, but Bart sped out of his reach.

There was a whoosh of someone using superspeed beside him and a flash of yellow. Cisco felt a jolt of panic, but it was only Wally. After a few seconds Nightwing appeared in the doorway, and then Jaime and Cindy piled in behind him

Cisco turned back to Bart and made another grab for his bag. “You can’t stop me from leaving by taking my stuff.”

“You’re not leaving,” Bart said petulantly.

“I’m doing this to protect you,” Cisco insisted.

Bart sped around him, running backwards until he smacked into Wally. Wally took hold of Bart to hold him still, and Nightwing plucked the backpack from Bart’s grip. Then he handed it back to Cisco, ignoring the little noise of protest Bart made.

“Thank you,” Cisco said nervously, taking the bag from Nightwing, “but I _am_ leaving and you can’t stop me.”

“We always promised you could come and go as you pleased,” Nightwing said seriously, “and I stand by that. But we also promised to protect you and I stand by that too. If you’re leaving, we’re coming with you.”

“What?” Cisco demanded.

“We’re not letting you do this by yourself,” Jaime said stoutly.

“If you’re going we’re coming,” Cindy said, with an air of finality. “You’re not leaving me behind again.”

Cisco sighed and tried to think of how to explain. “On my own I can go undetected. If we move in a big group he’ll find us and then he’ll kill you for helping me.”

“That won’t happen,” Nightwing said.

“Not if there are enough of us together,” Wally clarified. “He can’t fight all of us at once.”

“You don’t get it,” Cisco protested. “He’s _out._ Everything is coming together now, everything he’s planned. He wanted me here, surrounded by soft targets, so the only hope for any of us to survive is if I go away. Alone.”

At the words ‘soft targets’ Bart made an affronted noise. Jaime folded his arms and glowered.

“We are not soft targets,” he said, “and that is not cool. You should _hear_ how the scarab is carrying on.”

“What I mean is that I care about you,” Cisco clarified, “and he’ll use that against me. He’ll use _you_ against me, and I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stand that.”

“You cannot let him get in your head,” Nightwing told him. “I may not know as much about him as you, but I know that this is what he does. He manipulates you into making moves that are good for him, bad for you. Running? Is a bad move.”

“You’ll all be in danger if I stay,” Cisco countered.

“We’d rather all be in danger than have you in danger by yourself,” Wally said, letting go of Bart to cross his arms over his chest.

Bart raced over and snatched the backpack out of Cisco’s hand again.

Cisco groaned and hung his head. “What’s it going to take for you to believe me?”

“Oh, we believe you,” Cindy informed him. “We just don’t care.”

“We refuse to change our minds, no matter how much evidence you present,” Wally said.

“We are totally unreasonable,” Nightwing concluded.

Cisco looked around at the five of them, at their set and determined expressions. Suddenly he understood that there was no talking them out of this. If he left he would be traveling with a squad of team members, probably even more than the ones in this room. If he stayed here they would all be in danger, everyone on the team and any civilians that happened to get in the way.

At least if he stayed they would all be together. They’d have something resembling a fighting chance. He couldn’t make them uproot their lives trying to follow him. His only option was to stay.

“Fine,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster, “I won’t leave. But not because I think this is a good idea. I think it’s a better idea than all of you being homeless with me, but this is _still_ a bad idea.”

Judging by their expressions, none of them seemed to mind.

***

At first Nightwing tried to bench him.

“It’s just until Reverse Flash is caught,” he’d said, “but I think it’s best if you stay off active duty for a while.”

“No way,” Cisco had replied, “I’m not sitting around here twiddling my thumbs while everyone else risks their lives.”

“Wouldn't you rather go be with your family?” Nightwing asked.

“The last thing I want to do is draw attention to the fact that I’ve reconnected with them,” Cisco told him.

“We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be out in the open right now,” Nightwing explained.

“If I’m going to stay, I’m going to work,” Cisco said firmly. That was the end of that discussion.

The next tactic had been to try to distract him.

Somehow or other a prank war had gotten started, and while Cisco had firmly stated that he would _not_ be joining in the others seemed to unanimously decide that ‘participating’ and ‘helping’ were two different things. He was swarmed with requests for prank-assistance gadgets, ranging from simple motion sensor devices to complicated Rube Goldberg machines. Cisco didn’t like saying ‘no’ to any of them, especially since many of them had helped him with his inventions in the past, so it was a good five days before he realized that he’d been working uninterrupted by a single mission.

Once he realized this he’d gone straight to Nightwing. “Why haven’t I had a mission in nearly a week?” he demanded.

Nightwing shrugged. “You seemed busy.”

“I said I wanted to work,” Cisco said, “this stuff for the prank war can wait.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Nightwing asked, the picture of guileless innocence.

Cisco suddenly realized that Nightwing had probably _started_ the prank war, or at least given the others the idea. He glared, and Nightwing struggled halfheartedly with a smirk. If Cisco could see his eyes he was sure Nightwing would be batting his eyelashes.

“I said if I was going to stay I was going to work,” Cisco reminded him.

“You have been working,” Nightwing said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

“How exactly is this work?” Cisco asked incredulously.

“You’re-” Nightwing paused as though considering “-team building.”

“The others can ‘team build’ and do missions at the same time,” Cisco insisted.

Nightwing sighed. “Fine,” he said, “you’ll have a mission tomorrow.”

Then they’d tried to give him the soft gigs.

His first mission was to investigate a fire at Cadmus, which seemed perfectly reasonable until it was revealed to be not a fire at all but a bag of burned popcorn and a malfunctioning sprinkler system. That had seemed par for the course until his next mission was tracking down the missing daughter of a local Councilwoman, but that swiftly turned into a game of hide-and-seek with a seven year old who’d run away from home with two cookies and a banana. The last straw was his third mission, which was literally rescuing a cat from a tree.

“Why do you hate me?” he asked Nightwing, once he’d extracted himself from the crowd of onlookers and returned to the Watchtower.

“You wanted missions,” Nightwing said. “I gave you what was available.”

“That was humiliating!” Cisco protested.

Nightwing frowned. “We are never too good to stop helping the little guy.”

“I. Can’t. Fly.” Cisco said slowly. “I have no powers suited to that assignment. I circled the tree for like five minutes before I figured out that if I vibrated my body at the same frequency as its purr I could get it to jump down to me.”

“You could have portaled up to it,” Nightwing pointed out.

“The portals aren’t that precise,” Cisco said. “I’d have been lucky to land on the branch without breaking it.”

“Alright,” Nightwing held up his hands, “my bad.”

“You’re giving me the soft gigs,” Cisco accused.

“I just want you to take it easy,” Nightwing said placatingly.

“Well I can’t!” Cisco snapped, and somewhere inside him the floodgates opened. “Don’t you get it? There is no ‘take it easy’ for me right now! I see him everywhere I look! Every time someone uses superspeed around me I get this jolt of panic like an electric shock! The only time I don’t feel like I’m being watched, like he’s right there next to me just waiting for his moment, is when I have something to do!”

“Then work on your projects,” Nightwing insisted. “Help with the prank war. I will _find_ you something to do-”

“I don’t want to be just the guy who makes tech around here,” Cisco said. “I don’t want to be the baby, or the charity project, or-”

“You are not a baby,” Nightwing interrupted, “or a project. You’re my friend, and I want to help you.”

“Then let me do something useful,” Cisco said firmly.

Nightwing sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow you can have a real mission.”

***

Dick had officially declared their efforts to keep Cisco from going on missions over. Aside from the fact that he was onto them, Dick now seemed to think to going on missions was the best thing for him. He needed to feel useful, and not like they were being gentle with him because of the circumstances.

Bart was unconvinced.

Cisco was not prepared to run into the Reverse-Flash out in the field, and Bart didn’t like the idea of leaving him open to that. Not only had Cisco straight up resurrect a member of Bart’s family, but he’d had Bart’s back for months. Cisco had been through way too much and come out way too good and pure for Bart to let his abuser even _think_ of touching him again.

That was why Bart had ended up on the sofa in the residential wing’s living room for the past week. Leaving Cisco without a speedster to protect him seemed like asking for trouble. Even if Cisco claimed that Reverse-Flash was faster, that didn’t mean he outclassed someone who’d had the speed force since birth. There were tricks Bart knew, things that would take experience and experimentation to discover. With the help of the rest of the team, that might be enough, so Bart had taken to sleeping with his communicator in his ear.

One thing he’d learned about the speed force was that it didn’t tolerate long breaks in calorie consumption, so sometime around one in the morning Bart got up for his usual midnight snack. He was just emerging from the fridge with a can of tuna, thinking he might make himself a sandwich, when he closed the fridge door to reveal a figure dressed all in yellow standing in the doorway. At first Bart thought it was Wally, but it only took him a millisecond to realize that the figure was too tall.

The can of tuna fell from his hand and rolled away.

“You!” Bart dropped into a fighting stance.

Eobard Thawne held his pose, relaxed and at ease with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Impulse, I presume?” he asked

Bart didn't answer him. He was too angry to form words. Blood was pounding in his ears, every inch of him filled with indignant rage.

“Tell me,” Thawne said calmly, “have _you_ seen my Cisco?”

“You’re not getting him,” Bart snarled at Thawne.  “Never again.”

Thawne looked him up and down condescendingly. “And you plan to do what, exactly?”

Bart swallowed and clenched his fists tight. “I won’t let you hurt my team.”

“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that Cisco is yours,” Thawne said. “I assure you, I have no intention of relinquishing ownership.”

Bart could almost feel the collar around his neck, the symbol of possession that he’d always despised most. The idea of Cisco being owned in the same way was sickening.

“He’s his own, he doesn’t belong to _anyone_ but himself!”

“You see that,” Thawne smiled, “that is where you're wrong. He’s been mine since he was nine years old.”

“Not anymore!” Bart spat, then rushed at Thawne with all his speed.

Thawne sidestepped him, easy as breathing, and Bart’s momentum nearly carried him into the far wall. Bart tried again, growling, but Thawne merely evaded once more, seeming to exert no effort at all.

“The Flash really doesn’t train his toys very well does he?” Thawne laughed, smiling down at Bart’s glare.

“I’m not a _toy_ ,” Bart insisted, but he wasn’t stupid. He realized he was outpaced, and without backup he was outmatched.

“Tell me child,” Thawne said, “ _have_ you seen my little pistol lately? The Flash doesn’t seem to want to tell me what he’s been up to, playing with _my_ things.”

“The only thing I’ve seen of yours is your ugly mug,” Bart snapped.

“That’s the best you can do?” Thawne wondered. “I thought the Flash was known for his witty banter. Still, I suppose he couldn’t pass on everything through genetics alone.”

Bart _seethed_. Thawne laughed.

“Did I hit a nerve?” he asked.

Bart rushed him again. He tried to hit Thawne, throwing punch after punch at lightning speed, but he couldn’t seem to connect. Every miss made him angrier, but it also drained his energy. Eventually he was left sagging and panting, the Reverse Flash standing just out of reach.

“Just tell me where he is, child,” Thawne coaxed.

“You could easily search every room in this building,” Bart said. “Why deal with me at all?”

“Maybe I just like playing with you,” Thawne speculated.

Bart shuddered. He was being toyed with, and he hated the feeling. Thawne could do whatever he wanted, and Bart was as good as powerless.

“It seems only fair,” Thawne said thoughtfully, “that, after the Flash stole something from me, I should take something from him.”

“Cisco isn’t yours!” Bart wanted to run. He _couldn’t_ be a prisoner again, couldn’t survive being this man’s plaything. He couldn’t let himself be taken.

“And you know what about him, exactly?” Thawne laughed, and the syntax was so familiar Bart wanted to puke, from when Cisco had been cold and scared and alone. But of course, he’d spent years alone with this man.

“I know enough,” Bart said defiantly.

“You don’t know anything,” Thawne scoffed. “I _made_ him.”

“He’s not yours!” Bart started trying to look for a way out. He had to get help. He couldn’t let Thawne take him.

He didn’t dare call for the team on his communicator, not when Cisco might hear, not when he was _closest_ and would probably come running. He couldn’t let Thawne take Cisco either.

Thawne smiled. “He’s here now, isn’t he? I bet he’ll still come when he’s called.”

“Of course he’d come if a friend called,” Bart shot back. “That doesn’t mean he’ll come for you.”

“Let’s test that theory, shall we?” Thawne zipped into Bart’s personal space and, before Bart could do anything, disentangled his communicator from his ear.

“Cisco,” he sing-songed into the microphone, “come out and play. I’ve missed you so much my little pistol, and your friend here is just _dying_ to see you.”

“No!” Bart shouted. “Get out of here!”

He threw himself at Thawne again, furious and desperate. He could _not_ be what got Cisco caught or put in danger. He couldn’t.

***

Cisco was in bed, having fitful dreams of starless skies, when he heard it. At the sound of Thawne’s voice he was wide awake, and then he heard Bart’s voice faintly, like he was farther away. Bart was with Thawne. Thawne had taken Bart, and was doing god knew what with him. He didn’t give himself time to be scared before picking up his goggles and the communicator hidden inside. He couldn’t leave his friend in danger.

“Where are you?” he croaked, not really sure which one of them he was talking to.

“Get out!” Bart’s voice came again as Thawne held the communicator out of reach.

“The kitchen of the living quarters in the Hall of Justice,” Thawne replied, ignoring Bart’s cries. “I believe you’re close by, aren’t you?”

There were sounds as though of a scuffle for the communicator, Bart shouting for Cisco to portal out and get away all the while. Cisco was up and out of bed before he’d even realized it, running for the kitchen in Vibe shades and pajamas. He found them there, Thawne dangling the communicator just out of Bart’s reach, but Bart didn’t look like he’d been hurt. Yet.

Then Thawne took Bart by the throat.

“Cisco, run,” Bart choked, but it was barely audible.

“Hello Cisco,” Thawne said gently, completely indifferent to the superhero he was throttling. “It’s been a long time.

Three years in prison didn't seem to have altered Thawne in the slightest. He had no new lines on his face. He stood as tall as ever. He still looked at Cisco with the same uncomfortable focus that made him squirm like a bug until a microscope. It was as though no time had passed at all for him.

Cisco felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Let him go,” he said, but it sounded desperate and weak.

“Is that how you speak to me?” Thawne asked pointedly.

Cisco flinched. He wasn’t Thawne’s anymore, he _wasn’t_ , but Bart’s _life_ was on the line. He knew what Thawne was expecting -- _No, Professor Thawne, I’m sorry sir_ \-- but his mouth worked uselessly. He opened and closed it repeatedly, but nothing came out. He couldn’t go back to the way things were, not after everything he’d been through, everything he’d learned. But he couldn’t let Thawne hurt Bart either.

“Cisco,” Thawne continued when he’d been silent too long. “Answer me.”

“Please let him go,” Cisco forced out. His knees felt weak.

“Why should I?” Thawne wondered.

“He hasn’t done anything to you,” Cisco tried.

Thawne looked between Cisco and Bart. “On the contrary,” he said coldly, tightening his grip and forcing a choked off sound from Bart. “Try again.”

“You’re hurting him, please, stop!” Cisco shouted.

“One good reason,” Thawne challenged, “or I snap his inconsequential little neck.”

“No!” Cisco knew what Thawne wanted. He wanted him. “Please, don’t. I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”

Cisco was cut off by a disembodied voice saying, “Hold that thought,” and the clatter of a marble sized object bouncing into the room. All three of them stared at it for the split second before it revealed itself to be a smoke bomb. Then there were sounds of a struggle, followed by a high wind whipping away the smoke. By the time it cleared Nightwing, Batgirl and Robin were standing in the kitchen. Nightwing was holding a semiconscious Bart in his arms, and Thawne was gone.

Bart wheezed for air. “He was here, he . . . how did he get in?”

“Probably vibrated his way inside,” Nightwing said, setting Bart down but letting the younger hero lean on him. “The walls of this place aren’t speedster proof. Guess we’ll have to rethink that.”

Cisco sat down hard on the tile floor as his weak knees finally gave out, and Batgirl went to kneel in front of him. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Did he hurt either of you?”

Cisco shook his head, but he was too shaken to speak. He was so relieved that Thawne hadn’t tried to take him or Bart that it felt like he was floating, almost as though in a dream.

“What were all of you doing here?” Bart coughed.

“Same as you,” Nightwing replied. “Making sure he was safe.”

Bart nodded. “Cisco, are you ok?”

“He’s fine,” Batgirl called. “Physically anyway, but he’s pretty shook up.”

“Time to move you to a new safehouse,” Nightwing announced as Batgirl stood and offered her hand to Cisco.

Cisco, however, shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, “doesn’t matter where you take me. He’s going to find me.”

“We’re not going to let him take you,” Batgirl said. “If we have to get Bats to build you an apartment on the watchtower, we’ll do it. He’s not taking you again.”

“He’s not gonna stop,” Cisco protested, even as Robin and Batgirl hoisted him to his feet by his arms. “He tortured Bart literally just to hurt me, he won’t-”

“I’m fine,” Bart cut in. “I will be. It’s worth it, I wasn’t gonna let him get you.”

“So I’m just so supposed to let him hurt you?” Cisco demanded.

“What's your alternative?” Nightwing asked. “Turning yourself over to him? Not happening.”

“He was going to kill Bart. If I don’t do anything-”

“Not. Happening.” Nightwing repeated more firmly. “We beat him here, we’ll-”

“You think you beat him?” Cisco asked incredulously. “He’s toying with us!”

“Then we _will_ beat him,” Nightwing insisted.

Cisco shook his head. “You don’t get it. He would do this, after he first took me. He’d let me escape, let me get just a little farther than last time, and then catch me again. He was showing me that I couldn’t get away, that he was always one step ahead. That’s what he’s doing now, proving that he can get around whatever you throw at him. He’s showing me you can’t protect me.”

“So you want us to just not _try_ ?” Bart rasped. “No way! Neither of us are going to belong to _anyone_ ever again, I promise.”

Cisco hesitated. Every instinct was screaming at him that the more he fought the worse the punishment would be. Only this time it wouldn’t be time in the dark that he’d be paying with, it would be the lives of his friends. He couldn’t let them die for him. He couldn’t. They didn’t deserve this.

“It’s not . . . it’s not safe for you,” Cisco said weakly.

“None of us do this because we want to play it safe,” Nightwing replied, echoing Cisco’s sentiment from the day he saved Wally.

Cisco sighed, trying to think how to make them understand. “I can't let him hurt you,” he said, “don't you get it, I _can't_!”

“And how bad do you think it’s going to hurt when we lose you?” Bart asked.

Cisco paused. That was something he honestly hadn't thought of. Would he be hurting them if he left? Could Thawne hurt them just by taking him? The answer, once he thought of the question, was obvious. Yes, of course they would be hurt, just like it would hurt him to lose one of them.

Nightwing’s lips quirked into a smile. “You still feeling up to that mission tomorrow?”

“Yes,” said Cisco automatically. “Wait, I didn't-”

“Yeah,” Nightwing corrected, “you did.”

***

Nightwing’s idea of a ‘real mission’ was apparently traipsing through the jungle looking for Venom smugglers. As missions went, it wasn’t bad. He had nothing particularly suited to tracking smugglers, unless they were smuggling things from other universes, but when Venom was involved there was no telling what kind of security detail they would run into. It was best to have a heavy hitter with the group. He might have been getting eaten alive by mosquitoes, but at least the team were taking him seriously again.

Also they were on an island. While Reverse-Flash could run on water -- Cisco had seen him do it -- it wouldn’t be easy for him to travel long distances over open ocean.

“ _The coastline is clear,_ ” came La’gaan’s voice in his head. “ _However they’re getting the Venom onto the island, it’s not by boat._ ”

“ _Where are you?”_ Cisco asked.

“ _Sector five,_ ” came the reply. “ _That’s where you are, isn’t it? I’ll meet up with you._ ”

Cisco sighed but stayed in place. In a matter of minutes La’gaan came into view, ducking under the leaves of some large plant. He hummed a quiet greeting, and the two of them set off again, moving as silently as they could through the underbrush. La’gaan was better at stealth in the water than he was on land, but Cisco wasn’t much better, so while they were probably making more noise than was advisable neither one of them grew frustrated with the other.

After almost ten minutes of this, La’gaan finally spoke, directly into Cisco’s mind via M’gann’s psychic connection.

“ _I never got the chance to thank you_ ,” he said seriously. “ _For saving me from the rockslide._ ”

“ _What?_ ” Cisco asked. “ _Oh that? It was nothing. No worries._ ”

“ _It wasn’t nothing,_ ” La’gaan insisted. “ _You risked your life to save the team. It was nobly done._ ”

“ _I didn’t risk my life,_ ” Cisco said dismissively, “ _no matter what Nightwing says._ ”

“ _You still saved my life_ ,” La’gaan said, which Cisco couldn’t argue with.

“ _Is that why you contrived to finish your search off the coast in the area where I was searching?_ ” he asked instead

“ _You noticed that did you?_ ” La’gaan said, sounding completely unconcerned that Cisco had found him out.

“ _Did I notice that everyone’s treating me different now?_ ” Cisco asked. “ _Yeah, I noticed that._ ”

“ _To be fair, you did threaten to give yourself up to a supervillain just to keep us safe,_ ” La’gaan pointed out.

“ _How can you not see that I’m trying to do the right thing?_ ” Cisco asked.

“ _And how can_ you _not see how crazy that is?_ ” La’gaan wondered. “ _Look, if Kaldur tried to give himself up to Black Manta, what would you say?_ ”

“ _I’d say we can fight Manta,_ ” Cisco replied easily.

“ _And we can fight Reverse-Flash,_ ” La’gaan said. “ _You’ve built him up in your head until it seems impossible to defeat him, but it can be done. We’ll beat him just like we beat every other piece of shark bait we come across, and we’ll do it without you having to sacrifice yourself for the team._ ”

Cisco opened his mouth to speak aloud, about to explain all the ways in which Thawne was _not_ like every other villain they’d faced, when suddenly there came a rustling sound up ahead. Both of them froze, staring at the undergrowth. They listened for sounds of voices, but there was nothing. Cisco made to move forward again, but La’gaan flung out an arm. Cisco looked at him and he shook his head, then signaled that he would go on ahead and Cisco was to wait.

“ _Just use the psychic connection_ ,” Cisco grumbled, but La’gaan had already gone creeping swiftly through the underbrush toward the source of the noise.

Cisco waited ten breathless seconds for something to happen, but no further sounds were forthcoming. He waited another ten seconds, and then another, until a whole minute had passed. Deciding that was long enough, Cisco forged ahead after La’gaan. After a few moments pushing through leaves and vines he emerged onto a clearing, the moon above shining down through the gap in the trees onto the mossy ground.

La’gaan was lying on the ground at the far end of the clearing. Cisco’s first instinct was to run to him to check and see if he was alright, but he could not. Standing in the middle of the clearing, between him and La’gaan, was Thawne.

“Hello, little pistol,” said Thawne.

Cisco opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He wanted to run to La’gaan and run away with equal urgency, but he felt rooted to the spot. He did not think he would have gotten far either way.

“My,” said Thawne, almost wistfully, “how you’ve grown since we last saw each other.”

“Please,” Cisco found the courage to say, “is he-”

“Your friend is alright,” Thawne assured him. His expression was perfectly neutral. It was impossible to tell if he was angry or not.

“Thank you,” Cisco said, then immediately felt stupid. He thought of what Nightwing would say if he could see Cisco now, thanking supervillains for not killing his squadmates.

Thawne, however, smiled gently. “I see you remember how to mind your manners,” he said approvingly.

Cisco swallowed, but said nothing. Some part of him wanted to say something witty and biting and defiant. The rest of him didn’t dare.

“Of course,” Thawne went on when he didn’t speak, “I could kill him, if I wanted to.”

“No!” Cisco said immediately. “Please, don’t-”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” Thawne reprimanded gently. “I could kill every living thing on this island and you couldn’t stop me, could you?”

Only one answer was possible. “No.”

“No?” Thawne prompted.

Cisco’s lip trembled as he thought of La’gaan, lying there helpless. “No, sir.”

“Good boy,” Thawne smiled.

A sick sort of relief washed over him at the praise.

“You’ve always been my clever boy, haven’t you pistol?” Thawne continued.

“Yes, sir,” Cisco said. Humbling himself before Thawne was second to agreeing with him.

“You know what needs to happen then, don’t you,” Thawne said.

Cisco closed his eyes and dredged up the last bit of courage he had. “Will you promise not to hurt them?”

Thawne grinned, feral and wolf-like. He reached out a hand toward Cisco.

“Take my hand,” he said, “and I promise, I won’t hurt anyone on the team.”

There was no choice to be made. There was no viable option but one. Cisco took three halting, weak-kneed, dizzying steps forward, and took Thawne’s hand. There a loud rustling sound off to his left, like someone bursting into the clearing, and he recognized Nightwing’s voice, but before he could answer or even look in his direction, he was being whisked away in a violent rush of wind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember to go thank hedgi for the pain you're all in. comment in you hate both of us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY FINISHED! special thanks to those of you who are still here and to hedgi without whom this story would not exist.

When they came to a stop Cisco opened his eyes without realizing he had shut them. It was only a few heartbeat’s journey from the island’s jungle, and his heart was beating faster than a jackrabbit’s. Thawne set him down on his feet, and he looked around at the bright, clean kitchen. It was large and open, with an island in the middle around which sat two uncomfortable but elegant chairs. The countertops were granite, and the appliances were shiny chrome. It was rich and expensive, and so painfully familiar he felt like he might cry.

He was back.

“I thought here would be best, all things considered,” Thawne said conversationally. “So many memories.”

“It’s nice,” Cisco forced out from between trembling lips. Thawne was behind him, and Cisco kept his eyes on the countertop.

“I always thought so,” Thawne agreed. “Such a nice house for a child. Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget?” Cisco asked, trying to keep his tone light, trying to sound like they were discussing a particularly memorable party.

He tried not to think of the party from two weeks ago, his eighteenth birthday party. Those memories would do him no good here.

“Look at me,” Thawne ordered.

Cisco turned obediently around and raised his eyes to Thawne’s face. He looked the same as he always did the late afternoon sun, all relaxed and contemplative. Someone might have even mistaken him for fatherly.

Thawne sighed. “My little pistol,” he said, almost fondly. “I really did miss you. You have no idea how dull life was without you. No one interesting to play chess with.”

Cisco thought vaguely that there were probably other things that Thawne missed about him more.

“Did you miss me?” Thawne wondered.

“Not a day went by when I didn’t think of you,” Cisco said honestly.

Thawne smiled, pleased. “I won’t ask why you didn’t come for me. I know planning isn’t your strong suit.”

Cisco nodded in agreement. He wasn’t even insulted. There were more important things to worry about than Thawne’s estimation of his abilities.

“I will ask, however,” Thawne went on slowly, “why you didn’t come to me the moment you knew I was free.”

“I tried,” Cisco said, also honestly. “The team . . . prevented me.”

“The team,” Thawne repeated, pursing his lips. “Yes, I can see they were a very bad influence on you.”

Cisco said nothing. He could not bring himself to agreed with the statement, but there was no other acceptable response.

“You care about them,” Thawne noted, in the same tone of voice he might have used to say that the milk had spoiled. “Enough to defy me.”

“I will do whatever you ask,” Cisco told him, “ _ whatever _ you ask, as long as you don’t hurt them.”

“That’s not good enough,” Thawne said, and there was a hint of steel in his voice. “You will do whatever I ask no matter what I ask you to do. If I tell you to kill the entire team, you will do it.”

“No,” said Cisco, on a reflex, so quickly he didn’t even realize what he’d said until after he’d said it. His hand flew to cover his mouth, but Thawne’s eyes were already flashing with cold fury.

Saying ‘no’ was not allowed. Not for Cisco. Not in this house.

“I gave you a chance,” Thawne said, voice harsh, and the bottom dropped out of Cisco’s stomach. “I gave you a chance to be good and this is how you repay me?”

“I-” Cisco stuttered, “I-”

“That is not your decision to make,” Thawne cut him off. “I decide where you go, what you do and who you kill.”

“I’m sorry,” Cisco tried. “I’m-”

Before he could blink, before he could move or cry out, suddenly they were in the basement.

“That’s quite enough out of you,” Thawne said, low and dangerous.

Cisco tried to cover his mouth again, but suddenly his arms were yanked behind his back, and the next instant they were bound together, elbow to fingertip. He struggled, but whatever Thawne had used to tie them together held fast.

“Please,” he said, and his voice had gone high and broken, “please-”

The world suddenly upended himself and Cisco heard a crack as the back of his head hit the hard floor. He cried out, wanting to touch gingerly at the spot but unable to move his arms. Thawne was holding him upside down by his right ankle, his surprisingly strong arm taking Cisco’s weight easily as his other hand held a small knife. Cisco screamed as the blade dug deep into the sole of his foot, making one sharp line and then another. He kicked out with his other leg, but he had no leverage and Thawne evaded him easily.

Thawne dropped Cisco’s ankle and he collapsed to the floor, sobbing at the pain. Then Thawne took him by the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the back wall.

“We’ll see if three days will be sufficient time to think about what you’ve done,” Thawne said coldly.

“No!” Cisco shrieked, struggling. “No please! Don’t do this, I’ll be good, I’ll be-”

Thawne dropped him, letting his head crack against stone once again. He had landed facing away from the back wall, but he heard the familiar sound of a large metal door scrapping open. He tried vainly to crawl away, but then Thawne was dragging him again, this time through the door and into a cold, dark, windowless room.

“Please!” Cisco thrashed wildly as he was pulled further into the dark. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

Thawne said nothing. Instead he wrapped something around Cisco’s throat, something wide and thick, then pulled it tight so that it pressed uncomfortably on Cisco’s windpipe. He could still breathe, but it was difficult.

“It’s too tight,” he choked, but he heard the unmistakable click of a padlock being closed.

Then Thawne began walking towards the door.

“You can’t leave me!” Cisco called after him, kicking his legs out so that he fell onto his front painfully and shuffled forward. “Please don’t, please-”

The door closed with a heavy noise of unforgiving finality, and Cisco was left in darkness.

***

Cisco had once described to Dick how the walk from the zeta tube to the Ramon house was the longest one of his life. Dick now felt that very keenly, as he made his way over the rooftops to the suburb where the house sat innocently among the rows of identical homes. He made his way quickly and quietly through the shadows until he came to the door and, despite how much he’d have liked to put it off, knocked sharply three times.

After a few moments the door opened, and Dante stood on the other side. Dick watched as a series of emotions flitted quickly across his face. Surprise at seeing Nightwing, here and at this hour. The anger that usually accompanied hearing from a member of the team that wasn’t Cisco. Realization of what it had to mean for Nightwing not to call, but come in person. Fear, at what he might have to say.

Dante swallowed. “What happened?”

“May I come in?” Dick asked.

“No damn well may not come in,” Dante snapped. “Tell me what happened right now or I’ll-”

“Dante,” said Mrs. Ramon, bustling up behind him. “Don’t be rude. Please, come inside.”

Dick stepped inside and let Dante close the door behind him. He was shown to the living room and invited to sit on the overstuffed sofa, but he declined.

“I’d rather stand,” he said cautiously. “You, on the other hand, might want to sit.”

Mrs. Ramon looked confused. Dante looked murderous.

Dick took a deep breath and began his explanation. “I don’t know if Cisco told you this, it wasn’t my place to do so, but two weeks ago the Reverse Flash escaped from prison.”

The two of them looked at each other, faces ashen.

“He told us that it was too dangerous for him to come home right now,” Dante said slowly. “We figured that must be it.”

Dick nodded his understanding.

“Why are you telling us this now, if it wasn’t your place?” Mrs. Ramon asked nervously. “What changed?”

Dick hesitated, wondering how to put it. “A few hours ago, Cisco and I were on a mission. We were tracking Venom smugglers through the jungle. He was with another member of our team, Lagoon Boy, when they were . . . attacked.”

“Attacked,” Mrs. Ramon repeated. She had the look of someone who knew what was coming but refused to admit it. “Are they, alright?”

“Lagoon Boy is fine, he was just knocked out,” Dick said. “Cisco, on the other hand-”

“We need to see him,” Mrs. Ramon interrupted, trying to stand up, but Dante pulled her back down to the sofa. He was glaring at Dick with such vitriol that Dick actually wanted to shrink away from it.

“You can’t,” he said carefully, trying to sound as sympathetic as possible. “He was . . . taken. By Reverse Flash.”

“Taken,” Mrs. Ramon repeated softly. “Taken where?”

“We are doing absolutely everything we can to find them,” Dick assured her. “We  _ will _ find them, and we are going to get Cisco back.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Dante stood up, hands balled into fists at his sides, eyes flashing with rage. “You should be out there, looking for him!”

“I came because you needed to know,” Dick said, “and because we want the two of you to go into protective custody.”

“We?” Dante said furiously. “You mean the Justice League? Whose combined powers apparently can’t stop one speedster?”

“We are doing everything we can-” Dick began placatingly, but was interrupted when Dante’s fist connected with his jaw.

Dick saw the hit coming. Dante had made no attempt to disguise it, drawing back his arm for maximum force behind the punch. Dick did nothing to stop it, accepted it as what Dante needed right then. He’d taken much, much worse, and a bruise on his jaw was nothing to the pain Cisco’s family must be feeling.

Dick felt as wretched as he ever had losing a teammate. He couldn’t imagine what they were going through.

He straightened, looking to where Dante had just been standing, only to find that Dante had immediately skirted Dick and gone for the door.

“Where are you going?” Mrs. Ramon asked in alarm.

“To find Cisco,” Dante said, shrugging on his coat.

“You can’t,” Dick said quickly, “you don’t have the resources we do. How do you plan to find him-”

“The traditional way,” Dante spat. “ _ Look _ .”

“And what do you plan to do when you find him?” Dick asked. “You can’t fight a speedster, you have no training, no weapons-”

“I’ll figure something out!” Dante whirled around, one hand on the doorknob, eyes full of rage and brimming with unshed tears.

“Or you’ll get captured and used against him,” Dick told him. “Reverse Flash has already tortured one member of my team in order to hurt Cisco. Imagine how bad Cisco will hurt watching you get tortured.”

Dante’s hand slid off the doorknob. He took a deep, shaky breath, tears spilling down his cheeks. His mother gave a little noise of distress and stood up, running to her oldest son and pulling him down into her arms. She began whispering to him in Spanish, and he clung to her, both of them crying gently.

“What Cisco needs right now is for the two of you to be safe,” Dick said carefully. “That’s what you can do for him right now. Don’t get yourselves killed or captured. Be here when he gets back.”

Dante pulled away from his mother and turned to Dick. “You’ll find him?” he asked, wiping at his streaming eyes with his coat sleeve.

“I promise,” Dick said solemnly.

***

When Nightwing had made the announcement, Bart had immediately gone into overdrive. He was off like a shot, talking about various ways they could try to find Cisco, organizing the team into search parties and making wild promises to Cindy about finding Cisco within the hour. Once Nightwing had managed to slow him down enough to tell him that the League was going to be taking point on this case he’d begun vociferously protesting being left out.

“It’snotfariwewannalooktoo!” he said in a rush.

“Calm down,” Nightwing ordered sternly. “Then we’ll talk.”

Bart took a deep breath and let it out. “Why can’t we help?” he enunciated clearly. “He’s our friend!”

“It’s going to take a Leaguer to defeat Reverse Flash,” Nightwing said. “Flash is the only person who’s done it so far. We need to step back and let them handle this one.”

“You really think that?” Bart demanded.

“They have leads,” Nightwing said. “They’re tracking Reverse Flash’s energy signature. Now that they have a point of origin it will be easier. And they’ve already started looking for the last house where Cisco was held, so they should be able to find them there.”

“What if that doesn’t work?” Bart wanted to know.

“Then we’ll think of something else,” Nightwing said. “For now, we wait.”

Bart had looked like he wanted to argue more, practically swelling with indignation, but in the end he merely turned around and fled the room.

It didn’t take Jaime long to find him though. When they’d thought Wally was dead he’d made a habit of going to the memorial and talking to Wally’s hologram whenever he was upset. Now that the memorial had been taken down the spot where it had been had become his thinking place. While the other had disbanded, Nightwing going off to inform Cisco’s family, Jaime made his way to the small collection of trees that kept the air in the watchtower from going stale.

Bart was sitting against a tree, folded in on himself with his arms wrapped around his legs and his face buried in his knees. He didn’t look up when Jaime landed, or when Jaime sat down next to him. He did allow Jaime to put an arm around him, and cuddled closer into his side when Jaime laid his head atop Bart’s.

“It’s going to be ok,” Jaime said softly. “They’re going to find him.”

“How can you be sure?” Bart asked, and his voice was painful to hear, small and weak like his throat was raw.

“Because they’re the Justice League,” Jaime said. “If they can’t find him no one can.”

“And what if no one can?” Bart finally looked up. His face was blotchy and tearstained.

“They will,” said Jaime, trying to put all his confidence into the words. “They’ll find him and they’ll bring him back.”

“Cisco thinks no one can beat Reverse Flash,” Bart said. “Everything Cisco’s said has been true thus far. We’ve been trying to tell him it’s all in his head, but what if it’s not? What if it really is all part of some unstoppable master plan?”

“Getting thrown in prison for three years is a pretty long game to play,” Jaime pointed out.

“Not that long,” Bart countered.

Jaime squeezed Bart tighter. “All this just to defeat the Flash?” Jaime asked incredulously.

“What if it’s more than that?” Bart asked. “He seemed pretty upset that we had Cisco. What if it started off being about the Flash, but now it’s about him?”

“What do you mean?” Jaime frowned.

Bart wiped at his face with his sleeve. “Back in . . . my era,” he said carefully, “the Beetle warriors kept everyone under control. They liked doing it, seemed like they really got off on seeing us suffer. But sometimes they would have . . . favorites.”

“Favorites?” Jaime repeated. “Like, people they treated better?”

“No,” Bart shook his head. “People they treated worse. People they seemed to like torturing more than the rest of us. They would . . .”

Bart paused, like the words were stuck in his throat. He swallowed, but it didn’t seem like he could go on.

“Never mind what they did,” Jaime gave Bart’s shoulders another squeeze. “You think Cisco is Reverse Flash’s favorite?”

“I think so,” Bart nodded. “I think it’s gone past just needing him and evolved into  _ wanting _ him. Wanting to see him suffer.” Bart turned towards Jaime, eyes shining. “Now he has what he wants. And he’s going to punish Cisco for helping us. He’s going to hurt him, and-”

Jaime knocked his forehead against Bart’s, stemming the flood of words. They were so close now, breathing the same air. Jaime could feel Bart’s shallow breaths against his lips.

“Maybe,” Jaime said slowly. “Maybe you’re right. But he’s got something he didn’t have before.”

“What’s that?” Bart asked.

“Us,” said Jaime.

Bart’s lips twitched, just a little upward quirk at the corners. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Us.”

***

Despite the League’s best efforts, by morning they were no closer to locating Cisco. Reverse Flash had apparently misled them in several ways. His energy signature bounced all over North America until finally being lost somewhere in Coast City, which had been searched top to bottom with nothing to show for it. There had been sightings all over the place, but by the time the League arrived he was gone, if he had ever been there in the first place. All attempts to find the beach house Cisco had described were coming up empty.

“He has to be somewhere,” Cindy insisted, but if that were true then ‘somewhere’ was a place the League couldn’t find.

A day passed, still with no sign of Cisco. No one wanted to sleep until he was found, but eventually exhaustion claimed all of them. Cindy fell asleep on Cisco’s bed, and no one disturbed her. A second day passed, and the routine of eating and sleeping had to be maintained. Nightwing told them all that they had to stay fighting fit, to be there if Cisco needed them, but the League wasn’t giving them any information on new leads. As far as anyone knew, Cisco was still as lost as he had been two days ago.

On the evening of the second day Cindy found herself once again in Cisco’s room. He didn’t spend much time in here, preferring to keep himself busy in his workshop or spend time with her, but the desk was covered in schematics and the walls were hung with a handful of things he gotten from home. There was a collection of photos of Cindy and the rest of the team, hung where they could be seen from the bed. The pillow and the sheets still smelled like him.

Cindy was lying in the bed, smelling the pillow and looking at a picture of her and Cisco that had been taken by Nightwing a few weeks ago. He’d caught them both asleep on the sofa watching a movie, Cindy draped over Cisco and both of them holding each other loosely. She was studying Cisco’s sleeping face, calm and relaxed, when she heard a knock at the door.

“Come in,” she called, dashing at her eyes with her fingers as she sat upright, swinging her legs over the edge.

The door opened, and La’gaan cautiously poked his head inside. “I thought you might be in here,” he said, opening the door more fully.

“I guess I’ve been in here a lot,” Cindy forced a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” La’gaan came fully inside and closed the door behind himself. “I guess I hoped I could do it when Cisco got back, but I . . . don’t know when that will be.”

“Could be anytime,” Cindy said, trying to sound optimistic. It came out sounding sad.

“Could be,” La’gaan agreed hollowly, “but I think I need to say this now, either way.”

“What do you need?” Cindy wondered.

La’gaan bowed his head. “I wanted to apologize,” he said solemnly, “for being so easily overcome by the Reverse Flash. He blindsided me, but that’s no excuse. If I’d been able to hold off, even just long enough to warn the team-”

“Cisco would still have gotten there first,” Cindy told him gently. “And his decision would have been the same. He would have gone to protect any of us.”

“But it was me!” La’gaan protested, startling her with his vehemence. “I was the one he had to protect! Aren’t you angry with me?”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But it’s my fault!” La’gaan insisted. “If I had-”

“You couldn’t have done anything differently,” Cindy cut him off. “No choice you made would have made the slightest bit of difference. Cisco had already made his decision, long before he set foot on that island.”

“But,” La’gaan said, softer now, “I-”

“La’gaan,” Cindy said. “This isn’t your fault. It’s not Cisco’s fault either-”

“No one would ever say that,” La’gaan said earnestly. “At least not where I can hear them.”

“Then why is it ok to say it about you?” Cindy asked. “It’s no one’s fault but Thawne’s.”

La’gaan seemed to think about this for a second. Then we went to sit on the bed next to Cindy.

“We will find him,” he said. “I promise.”

“I know,” Cindy said. “I just . . . hope he’s the same when we do.”

“He’s tough,” La’gaan assured her. “He’ll pull through.”

Cindy gave a wry smile. “Right,” she said, nodding. “Tough as nails.”

“But-” La’gaan prompted, obviously seeing the worry in her eyes.

“The last time he was taken, it changed him,” Cindy said. “He came out so different than he had been before that he wouldn’t even  _ see _ the important people in his life, because he knew he wasn’t the person they remembered.”

La’gaan nodded, his eyes concerned and understanding.

“I just don’t want that it to be me that he can’t face this time,” Cindy said.

“I don’t think there’s anything that could do that,” La’gaan replied easily. “What you two have is special. If there’s anyone he’ll always come back to, it’s you.”

“Thank you,” said Cindy, and she found that, in an odd way, she felt a little bit better.

***

In the beginning, Cisco screamed.

He knew screaming would do him no good. Thawne couldn’t hear him through the thick walls, and nothing he did or said would have made Thawne open the door before his three days were up. Still he screamed. He screamed at the pain in his foot. He screamed for help that wouldn’t come. He screamed to stave off the deafening silence that would settle in when he stopped screaming.

He tried shuffling towards the door, knowing full well that it was locked and heavy and didn’t even have a handle on the inside. It was then that he discovered that the collar around his neck -- because that’s what it was, a collar -- was attached to some kind of chain connected to the back wall. He could get about halfway across the small room before it pulled tight, putting even more pressure on his throat. Then he backed up, slithering across the cold floor, until he could maneuver himself into a sitting position against the wall.

Once he was done screaming and trying to escape he began to talk. Sometimes he pretended Thawne could hear him, and sometimes he did not. Occasionally he would pretend a member of the team was there with him and he’d talk to them. He prayed a little, in English and in Spanish, but he knew God was not here. Mostly he talked to himself. He berated himself for letting this happen. He scolded himself for thinking things could go any other way. He soothed himself, rocking back and forth as much as he could and telling himself it would be alright. He talked until his throat was dry, at which point he remembered that he would get no water for three days and he stopped talking.

Then the silence set in. The horrible, smothering silence that seemed to make the room even darker than before. The cold creeped into his bones and the dark pressed on his eyes and the silence filled his mouth and throat until he thought he would choke on it. With no sound to focus on every sensation was magnified, the pain and the cold and the ache in his heart. He was in the dark once more. He was alone.

This time though, he knew that he could take it.

When Thawne opened that door, he was going to ask a question. He thought he knew what the answer would be. He thought that Cisco would say anything to prevent himself having to go back to the dark. But he was wrong. Cisco would not say what Thawne thought he would say. He would refuse, because the lives of his friends depended on it.

For the lives of his friends, he could hold out.

***

Dick hadn’t really slept since watching Cisco be snatched up by the Reverse Flash. He’d dozed a little bit. He’d lain in bed and tried to sleep. But he couldn’t really fall into the kind of sleep he knew he needed. Every time he closed his eyes he could see Cisco, taking Thawne’s hand and being whisked away, and then he would open them again. No one could sleep with that kind of image.

Midnight between the second and third days after Cisco’s disappearance found Dick in Cisco’s workroom, looking at the case file for what felt like the hundredth time. There was no new information, except for the fact that all Reverse Flash’s misdirections had turned up no clue as to Cisco’s whereabouts. Somehow though, he felt like he was missing something. Hidden here, in all of this information, was the answer. He just needed to find it.

“Dick?” came a voice from the door, making him look up. M’gann was peeking around the door, looking concerned.

“Yeah,” he called, beckoning her inside. “How’d you know I’d be down here?”

“I’m psychic, remember?” she said, smiling a little as she came around the door. “I could feel you down here.”

“I don’t suppose you could feel where Cisco went,” Dick asked hopelessly.

M’gann shook her head. “He’s too far away. I tried, but . . .”

“It’s not your fault,” Dick assured her.

“It feels like it is,” M’gann pulled the other chair up to the work table beside Dick. “We promised to protect him. We promised that if he stayed here he’d be safe.”

“We all failed,” Dick said, “but we’re not giving up. We’re going to find him.”

“How?” M’gann asked. “All our leads have been exhausted. We have nothing.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Dick said. “We just need to not give up.”

“I’m not giving up,” M’gann shook her head. “We can’t, not when Cisco’s still with that . . . that . . .”

She trailed off, apparently unable to find a word horrible enough to describe Thawne.

“I know,” Dick offered, “but we have to remember Cisco’s been through this and survived once. He can hold out until we find him.”

“I don’t know,” M’gann shook her head. “I mean, I have faith in him, but what he’s going through?”

Dick frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I saw . . . some of it,” M’gann admitted. “Inside his head, when I checked for psychic triggers. Those memories were . . . just awful. The things Thawne did to him . . .”

She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. Dick stared at her. A thought was forming in his brain as he watched her huddle there trembling. Thawne was a twisted, terrible person. He didn’t think like other people. Everything he did was meant to maximize the amount of pain he caused other. Every thought he had was shaped by the desire to do as much damage as possible.

M’gann looked up and saw him staring at her. “What?” she asked curiously.

Dick swallowed, trying to temper the hope he was feeling with the reality of what had to happen next.

“I think I know how to find Cisco.”

***

Wally hadn’t really had much of a reaction to the news of Cisco’s kidnapping. He’d nodded solemnly and asked what the plan was, and when Dick had said that the League was going to handle it he’d turned to go. Artemis hadn’t so much taken him home as followed him there, a task made more difficult because he’d gone off at super speed the minute he’d left the zeta tube. She’d arrived home fifteen minutes later, to find the door unlocked and standing slightly ajar.

When she pushed through the open door, Artemis had found Wally curled up in his favorite chair. His hair was standing on end, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his face was buried in his hands.

“Wally?” she’d asked nervously.

Wally had looked up at her, and his expression had made her breath catch. He looked utterly broken, eyes bloodshot and face blotchy and tearstained. She’d immediately gone to him and climbed into his lap, holding his head to her chest as she let him cry against her.

“We promised he’d be safe,” he whispered. “We  _ promised. _ ”

“I know,” she whispered back. “I know.”

Neither of them slept that night. If Wally was at all like Artemis, he was kept awake by the yawning pit of guilt in his stomach. Then again, Wally wasn’t really like her. He was probably just worried for Cisco, without thinking to lay blame. Artemis couldn’t help but feel responsible. Cisco had given her back Wally, and she’d promised to keep him safe from the person who’d hurt him. She couldn’t even do that right.

So when Dick had called saying that he knew how to find Cisco, Artemis and Wally had been the first ones to the Watchtower.

Getting the entire team together in the middle of the night wasn’t particularly easy, but none of them were sleeping well and everyone was ready to help find Cisco. They stood around the main floor with rumpled hair and sleepy eyes, waiting for the stragglers to arrive so they could begin hearing about Dick’s plan. Once everyone was there, Dick went to stand in front of them and a hush fell over the crowd.

“Thank you all for coming at this hour,” Dick said, a little distractedly. “This might have waited until the morning, but I don’t think any of us wanted to put this off while Cisco is in danger.”

There was a general murmur of agreement from the crowd. Dick took a deep breath and plunged onward.

“Up to this point, we’ve been thinking like heroes,” Dick said, beginning to pace back and forth in front of them. “What we need to do is think like villains.”

“Uh, what?” asked someone, Artemis wasn’t really paying attention who. Her focus was on Dick.

“We need to start thinking like Thawne,” Dick explained. “We can’t think about tracking him, he’s too smart for that. We need to think about where he would go.”

There was silence for a moment. Artemis held her breath, wondering if anyone was going to speak. Did they know enough about Thawne to do a thing like this? Would any of them be able to think like villains?

“It’s not about where he’d go,” said a voice suddenly, and immediately all eyes turned to where Bart had stepped forward. “It’s about where he’d take Cisco. Cisco is stronger now, so Thawne needs to rely on his mental state to control him. He’d want to take him somewhere that would remind him of being small and weak.”

“The first place he held Cisco,” Dick nodded. “Where would that be?”

“Central City,” said Barbara, also stepping forward. “He said that Thawne would let him escape and get part way home, then recapture him to make him feel helpless. He had to have stood a decent chance of getting home. So, Central City.”

Dick entered in their search parameters, and a map of Central City appeared hovering over the group.

“Cisco . . . probably screamed,” said Jaime, sounding pained. “It would have to be isolated.”

The new information was entered and a series of glowing dots appeared throughout the outskirts of the city.

“Still too many,” Dick insisted. “We need more parameters.”

“When I went into Cisco’s mind,” M’gann piped up, “I saw some things. He has a lot of memories of a cold, dark place. A room in the house where Thawne would put him to punish him.”

“It would take a lot to climate control a closet,” Dick replied. “So, basement. That narrows it down.”

Some of the glowing dots vanished.

“Even if he owned the house under a fake name, he couldn’t have been paying the bills while he was in prison,” Tim said.

“So somewhere that’s had its utilities turned on in the last two weeks,” Dick said, already entering the information.

The glowing dots were reduced down to four.

“Four houses,” Dick turned to the team, grinning. “Think we can search that many?”

A cheer came up from the gathered superheroes.

Records revealed that two of the houses had recently been sold, but Dick still sent squads to check them out. Of the two that remained one was an old manor house on the outskirts of the city, and one was a smaller house on the edge of the woods. The house in the woods though, had a basement that had been turned into a bunker during the Cold War.

“I’ll take that one,” Dick announced once the other two squads had cleared off. “Jaime, Wally, Conner, you’re with me.”

“I want to go too!” Cindy insisted earnestly.

“You check out the other one,” Dick told her. “We don’t know how much luxury Thawne prefers, so he might have taken the bigger house and finished the basement himself.”

“You obviously think it’s the one you’re going to,” Cindy protested. “That’s why you’re going yourself, and bringing two heavy hitters and a speedster with you!”

“You take Bart,” Dick countered. “He’s almost as fast as Wally is now. Artemis will go with you and I’m sending Robin as well.”

Cindy looked at him suspiciously. Artemis knew what she was thinking. Dick was generally given to handling important things himself, but he also liked to give special missions to Tim.

“Fine,” Cindy said after a moment’s consideration. “But if he’s at that bunker house, you bring him home safe.”

“Count on it,” Dick assured her.

***

Getting inside the house wasn’t particularly difficult. There was no car in the driveway, which Bart chose to interpret as suspicious rather than a sign that the person who lived there was out. He vibrated his way inside, then unlocked the door for the rest of the team. He didn’t give the house a thorough check, not wanting to alert anyone to their presence, but everything was quiet. The place was elegantly but sparsely furnished, and the lights had all been wastefully left on. It looked discouragingly like a typical rich person lived there.

“We check the basement first,” Artemis whispered once they were all inside. “If he’s not there we do a sweep of the house, then contact the others.”

All of them nodded their agreement.

The stairs to the basement were hidden behind a door in the kitchen, and they crept down one at a time. Artemis went first, bow drawn, and the Bart brought up the rear. He was glancing behind himself, wondering if he’d heard something in the kitchen or if it had just been the old house creaking, when he bumped into Cindy in front of him.

“What’s the hold up?” Bart asked, turning around to look ahead again.

Artemis was stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring at something across the room that Bart couldn’t see. Then suddenly she relaxed her bow and sprinted for the far wall. The three of them followed her, Bart frustratingly slow behind the other two, until he could see what had made Artemis pause. Backed up against the wall furthest from the stairs was a large metal box, as big as a small room. It had a wheel handle like a bank vault, and was hooked up to what looked like an air conditioning unit.

“Dark and cold,” Bart whispered, then zipped ahead of the group to try the wheel. Thankfully it wasn’t locked, and the door swung open.

Inside the vault was Cisco. He was leaning awkwardly against the back wall, his arms bound tightly behind himself with duct tape. It went all the way up to his elbows, and even his individual fingers were taped together. There was a heavy leather collar around his neck, held in place by a smallish padlock. This lock was connected to a chain, which trailed about halfway up the wall to a small metal ring. His feet were bare, and one of them was cut up and bloody. Even through the blood and the dust it had been dragged through, the shape of a backwards lightning bolt was still clearly distinguishable.

***

Cisco had been slipping into a light doze when the door swung open. He opened his eyes, blinking against the sudden flood of light. He’d been in the dark a while, that much he knew, but it didn’t feel like it had been three days. He expected to see Thawne there, all smiles, asking in a gentle croon if Cisco had learned his lesson. He expected a water bottle to be pressed to his lips, just enough to stave off lethal dehydration. He had rehearsed what he was going to say, even knowing that it would only earn him more time in the dark.

What he actually saw made his heart clench painfully with fear.

Standing in the doorway was Cindy, accompanied by Artemis, Robin and Bart. They came streaming into the dark room, Artemis immediately going to kneel behind him, Robin coming to sit beside him and Cindy crouching in front of him. Bart zipped out again, and when he came back the cold in the room suddenly didn’t feel quite as biting as it had before.

“No,” Cisco moaned as Cindy took his face in her hands, “you can’t, you can’t be here!”

“Baby,” Cindy sobbed, but Cisco pulled away from her.

“He’s here,” he whispered urgently to the others. “He’s going to find you!”

“Relax kid,” said Artemis from behind him, where he could feel the point of her arrow sawing at the bindings on his arms.

Robin produced a lock pick from nowhere and went to work on the padlock holding Cisco’s collar in place. “We’re busting you out.”

“You have to run,” Cisco begged.

“We are running,” Bart said as he dropped down beside Cisco’s injured foot, “but you’re coming with us. Hey Charmer, can I get a piece of your skirt to put over this?”

“You need to get out of here now,” Cisco tried again, even as Cindy tore a long strip from the hem of her skirt and passed it to Bart.

“We’re all getting out of here,” Bart said, quickly tying the makeshift bandage around Cisco’s foot. “Together.”

“Please,” Cisco whined, but the lock on his collar clicked open and was promptly tossed aside. He was too weak to fight as Robin unhooked the collar from around his neck and let it fall to the ground.

“Got it!” said Artemis, and suddenly Cisco’s hands flopped weakly down to his sides. They were still covered in what looked like duct tape, but they were free.

Artemis and Cindy each took one taped-up arm and hoisted Cisco to his feet. It hurt to put pressure on the one that was all cut up, but he managed to settled himself on his good foot with the girls taking most of his weight. He was too weak and cold to struggle as they supported him towards the door, but he did not stop protesting.

“If he finds you down here-” he began, but Artemis cut him off.

“He won’t find us if we hurry,” she said, with the same blind optimism Nightwing always showed in the face of impossible odds.

“Do you know what he’ll do to you?” Cisco demanded. “Do you know what he’s going to-”

“No,” said a voice from the stairs, making all of them freeze. “I imagine they don’t know what I’m going to do.”

In a slow, unhurried sort of way Eobard Thawne came down the last few stairs until he reached the basement floor. He surveyed the five superheroes critically, as he might look at a child’s cluttered bedroom. Then he sighed and shook his head.

“Cisco,” he asked sternly. “Was this your idea?”

“Yes,” said Cisco immediately. “It was all me. Punish me, not them.”

“I think we’re a little past the point of punishment,” said Thawne coldly. “No, now we’re on to a slightly more permanent solution.”

Bart chose that moment to rush Thawne, yelling something about never belonging to anyone again. Cisco watched as though in slow motion as Thawne sidestepped him and positioned his hand so that Bart went careening into it at top speed. He let out a noiseless gust of air as Thawne’s fist sank into his stomach, then a pained cry as he was thrown across the room into the stone wall.

Robin went next, swinging his staff at Thawne and growling in rage. Thawne dodged a few swings before taking it from him and tossing it carelessly across the room. While he was doing that Robin somehow managed to land a hit, a kick to the jaw that turned Thawne’s head but did little else. He caught Robin’s foot on the next attempt and threw him next to his discarded staff.

Artemis allowed Cindy to take Cisco’s weight, causing both of them to sag to the floor. She drew back an arrow and fired, but Thawne caught it and threw it back at her with equal force. She managed to dodge, but it had evidently been an exploding arrow because it went off when it hit the far wall, creating and explosion that threw Artemis forward. She went into a tumble roll and sprang to her feet, but she was not fast enough to stop Thawne from taking her bow and striking her across the face with it. She went reeling back, then grabbed for her weapon, only to meet with Thawne’s super speed uppercut. She flew up, hit the ceiling and then went crashing back to the floor.

Cindy stood up from where she had fallen next to Cisco. She placed herself squarely between him and Thawne, and raised her arms above her head. An illusion of an enormous brown bear formed around her, devoid of substance but convincing just the same. The bear roared, but Thawne gave no indication that he was frightened. Instead he thrust his hand into the middle of the illusion, and when it dissolved he had Cindy by the throat.

“Let this be a lesson,” he said, squeezing tightly, making Cindy choke. “Cisco. Is. Mine. You can’t take him from me, no matter how hard you try, you inconsequential little-”

At that point his words were cut off by some kind of sonic blast hitting him in the chest. He dropped Cindy and stumbled back, managing to keep his feet despite his obvious surprise. There was silence for a few seconds as Thawne regained his bearings, looking down at his own chest in shock. Cisco wondered vaguely where the blast had come from, until he looked down and realized that his own arm was outstretched.

“You,” Thawne turned furious eyes on Cisco, “you  _ dare _ -”

“I  _ don’t _ belong to you,” said Cisco, and his voice was steadier than he’d thought possible. He rose to his feet, shakily and not without jostling his foot, but he managed it.

“You will obey me,” Thawne growled. “You will kill them, now!”

“You won’t touch them,” Cisco countered, more steel in his voice than he’d ever heard with Thawne in the same room. “You leave them alone!”

Thawne reached out a hand towards him, but Cisco was faster. He lifted his hand and fired another blast, this one sending Thawne careening backwards until the back of his head hit the underside of the staircase. He crumpled to the ground like so much wet laundry, and Cisco could see a little drop of blood drip onto him from above.

Cisco lowered his arm, stumbled forward two steps and dropped to his knees beside Cindy. “Are you ok?” he asked, in a shaky voice.

Cindy smile brightly, though one hand was still massaging her throat. She would have a bruise, and Cisco felt suddenly furious.

“So, how many times does this make that we’ve tried to save you and you ended up saving us?” Artemis wondered, hauling herself upright.

“Too many,” replied Robin, also sitting up and rubbing at his bruises. “Don’t we get to save you, like, once?”

Cisco laughed, more a little exhalation of nerves than anything, and then Cindy turned him back toward her. She kissed his jaw, kissed her way along his chin to his mouth.

“You did it,” she whispered against his lips.

“Not alone,” he responded, which was just as true as it is cheesy.

The basement of the house had some kind of frequency jamming device, presumably just in case Cisco had been fitted with a tracker. Once they were all upstairs they were able to call for the rest of the team, many of whom were already on their way over after Artemis had failed to answer calls on the communicator. Wally immediately rushed to her and picked her up, spinning her around a few times before hugging her close.

“You did good babe,” he said, squeezing her tight.

“Yeah yeah,” she slapped his shoulder. “Where were you?”

“Running everyone over here,” Wally protested, and they both laughed.

Nightwing went immediately to check Thawne’s pulse. For one agonizing moment Cisco wondered if he had killed him, but then Nightwing produced a pair of power-dampening handcuffs and fastened them around Thawne’s wrists. Another pair went around his ankles for good measure.

Cisco wasn’t strong enough to open a portal, so Wally ran him to the zeta tube and up to medbay on the Watchtower. He was given apple juice, IV fluids and a large helping of jello, followed by the Big Belly Burger the Bart picked up on his way over. His foot was cleaned and bandaged properly, but Cindy was there to hold his hand through the sting.

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me,” he whispered to her.

“As if I could do a thing like that,” she whispered back.

Cindy stayed with him as a crowd of excited friends were paraded in one at a time. La’gaan apologized for not being able to fight Thawne, and Cisco forgave him with a wave of his hand. Cassie hugged him so tight he thought his bones might break. Nightwing went last, and he brought with him a cell phone, which he handed to Cisco without a word.

“Hello?” Cisco said into the receiver.

“Cisco?” asked Dante’s voice, sounding broken and full of hope at the same time.

“It’s me!” Cisco said immediately, realizing that Dante must have gone out of his mind with worry. “I’m fine, I mean, mostly fine. I’m . . . a little bit in the hospital, but hang tight and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You sure you’ll be up for that?” Nightwing asked.

“Tomorrow,” Cisco repeated with conviction. Then he covered the receiver with his hand. “And thank you, for finding me.”

Nightwing waved a hand dismissively, but his smile was more relieved than smug.

Admittedly the next day his foot did still hurt, as he seemed to have gotten an infection from dragging it through the dust, but he was determined to keep his promise. Cindy helped him to his feet and he opened a portal, which he hoped would not be seen through his mother’s front window. He’d mentioned on the phone that she should close the curtains.

“Ready?” asked Cindy.

“Only if you are,” Cisco replied.

With Cindy to support him, Cisco limped through the portal. No sooner had they stepped out though than the darkened living room exploded with light and confetti, and every single member of the team, plus his family, jumped out from behind the furniture.

“Surprise!” they chorused.

“Really?” Cisco asked no one in particular, allowing himself to be hugged tightly by his mother. “Another surprise party?”

“We thought about telling you,” Dante admitted, after he’d gotten his hug, “but since you missed eight years of birthdays we figured we had to make up for lost time.”

“Is that what this is?” Cisco wondered. “A birthday party?”

“Maybe more of an Independence Day party,” Nightwing speculated.

Cisco frowned. “It’s nowhere near the Fourth of July.”

“ _ Your _ independence day, you dork,” Cindy poked him. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore!”

Cisco considered this for a moment. “No,” he realized. “I guess I don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're curious about what happened to thawne, both his legs were blown off in a tragic equipment malfunction while in prison, which can in no way be traced back to anyone in the league.


End file.
